


big bad decepticon

by ZOMBIEDOG



Series: REQUESTS [2]
Category: Transformers (Bumblebee Movie), transformers beeverse, transformers knightverse
Genre: Other, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 02:09:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18356450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZOMBIEDOG/pseuds/ZOMBIEDOG
Summary: Now, however, with you sleeping on his chassis, in the cockpit that no longer served any true purpose for him, he couldn’t believe how soft he’d become. He was a trained soldier, a veteran to a war that raged longer than your galaxy existed, yet here he was holding you like you were the last energon crystal in existence. There was just something about you, he supposed, that made him want to trust and protect you, to hold you close and keep you by his side





	big bad decepticon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gunschute](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gunschute/gifts).



Blitzwing  _still_  wasn’t sure how the little organic had wormed its way under his plating. He was a proud Decepticon, and Decepticon’s didn’t play nice with others, especially not little nosy organics poking around where they shouldn’t be, though he couldn’t find an entire fault in that nosy nature. It was still the reason he was online and functioning as well as he was

He still felt the phantom pains under his armor where the scout had jammed the rocket, his aim not true and missing his chassis, though Blitzwing himself wasn’t lucky enough to be completely unscathed. His t-cog had been melted in the blast, rendering his transformation abilities absolutely moot, his normal, proud strut was now reduced to an awkward limp as he struggled to shift most of his weight to his uninjured leg, with varying success

The flier had barely escaped the scene of the fight before his processor crashed, knocking him offline for - what his processor now registered as - roughly 5 human weeks. Though it wasn’t much time for a cybertronian, the idea that he had been so vulnerable for so long left him more than uncomfortable. When he had first spotted you, it was when he was trying to make sense of his injuries, deciding what wires had to be scrapped together and which could be salvaged

He wouldn’t have noticed you if it weren’t for the scent that assaulted his olfactory senses, the scent that was not only human but very unique to  _you_  and you  _alone_. He remembered how he quickly tried to scramble to his peds, servo transforming into a blaster as his visual feed hissed static and glitched out, his cooling-fans kicking into high gear as his processor fought off a shut-down from the sudden intense sensory input. The last thing he remembered from that was the startled and concerned face of an organic, one that was quickly approaching him

* * *

When his visual feed finally returned to him, he noticed that his surrounding scenery had changed, not drastically, but just enough to cause a wave of unease to flood through his lines. Plating fluffed and wings hidden stiffly behind him, Blitzwing remembered shuttering his optics at the sight of his servo being scrubbed (being ‘cleaned’ he was later told) by the very same organic he had spotted earlier. While this in and of itself was enough to cause concern, the fact Blitzwing hadn’t registered the pressure on his servo’s nearly had him panicking

He still felt the remnants of the terror he felt when he couldn’t move his frame and his energon levels were dangerously low, his optics falling to you as if you, a primitive, squishy little organic, could understand the direness of his situation. Looking back now, he was glad he somehow found it within himself to try and communicate to you his condition, and how intensely you had tried to understand him. Blitzwing was still a bit ashamed at the pang of ‘hurt’ and ‘fear’ he felt when you had gotten to your feet before leaving him, those quickly being chased away by feelings of ‘safety’ and ‘protected’ when you had returned with an energon crystal

He never did question where you found the crystal, but he would forever be grateful for the effort you put into trying to liquify it to make it easier for him to digest, though he ended up helping by stabbing his claws into the crystal until it started to bleed enough energon to start a small trickle. The look of awe on your tiny organic face-plates still amused him

He often wondered what you thought when you first saw him. A giant, metal titan on the verge of death nearly perishing so close to your home, and he still couldn’t help wonder what compelled you to want to help him. He knew his appearance wasn’t the friendliest but yet you had cleaned him and tried to help him repair himself when he had his processor about himself and could explain the process you would need to go through to repair certain wires or boot up certain systems

Though, his favorite memory of you was easily the first time he held you in his claws, held close to his chassis and very near his spark, the very thing that made him  _him_. It was after he had gotten to is peds for the first time since encountering you, slightly encouraged by your cheers and soft words as you urged him to stand, to stretch, or try to move however he could. When he had stood to his full height, he had glanced down at you as he flicked his wings, and the soft look on your face was enough to melt his spark

Now, however, with you sleeping on his chassis, in the cockpit that no longer served any true purpose for him, he couldn’t believe how soft he’d become. He was a trained soldier, a veteran to a war that raged longer than your galaxy existed, yet here he was holding you like you were the last energon crystal in existence. There was just something about you, he supposed, that made him want to trust and protect you, to hold you close and keep you by his side

Blitzwing would never truly forgive the scout for taking away his ability of flight, for ruining any chance of normalcy he could pretend to have before the next fight, but he was glad that missile had missed his chassis and hit his leg. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here, and he wouldn’t have had the chance to meet you, and he couldn’t bear the thought

Primus, he was a  _terrible_  decepticon


End file.
